I think of you sometimes— No, actually quite often nowadays. the one I lost in an ordinary way. . You didn't leave all at once,
By Imola Tóth6 months ago in Poets
Oh, yesterday's child, I mourn your loss of personal worth. Nature's little girl go-getter Writer, singer, dancer, actor Performer under the big ol' apple tree
By Marilyn Glover6 months ago in Poets
Dislodging a once thriving euphoria generates a vast void. Stolen away, unrepentantly within a blink of an eye. With piercing claws lunging to hollow me hastily,
By Kami R. Taylons6 months ago in Poets
I have two older sisters, and we were exactly raised the same. That being said, the only thing we have in common; is probably our last name.
By Alaine Hay6 months ago in Poets
How tiresome this era. How very weary the adversity and burdens currently plaguing the work force. Only the supercilious wealthy
By Julie Lacksonen6 months ago in Poets
This elegy poem is an ode to the innocence of mant children who grew up in the 1960s and decades long past who were hit with a terrible blow when they reached a certain age.
By Cheryl E Preston6 months ago in Poets
So, once again — out of nowhere — it’s May Day! Once again: we were still in February, or focused moment-by-moment in April — OR… Or we were already looking ahead to June. Uhh… hrm.
By Gabriel B. Shames6 months ago in Poets
There was once a girl She strode into the room, all smiles, Brown curly hair, And an air of confident efficiency. * She ordered diaries,
By Ruth Stewart6 months ago in Poets
I never knew how much I reminded you of her—never elevated myself to her status. I was taller, but still, I looked up to her,
By Harper Lewis 6 months ago in Poets
I remember when I heard he had joined Duane, happy for him, miserable for us. Without him, the band surely would have spun out
There you go, floating free way above me Flying with clouds and singing with birds Playing with the angles that look down and watch me
By Kristina Brule6 months ago in Poets
For nine long months I grew within a casing; even then, I sought the mother-thrum. ~ Yet when I was born, you were the permafrost above my crib.
By Caitlin Charlton6 months ago in Poets
